100 OneShot Challenge
by S. Flame Eve
Summary: 100 One-shots themed by Prin Pardus. My submission to her challenge. Ranging from tales of hope to despair and anything else that falls under the category.
1. Chapter 1: Injured

**1\. Injured**

Orange and brown leaves littered the bogs of the marsh territory. One fallen leaf after another dappled the earthy ground with its gentle touch. The night's deep purple bordered with the sun's setting red and pale golden skies. The trees' thick canopy suddenly thinned as the cracks of light broke toward the forest floor. Speckles of white frost glistened like tiny stars as they covered every nook and cranny of the land.

"Ryepaw…Ryepaw. For StarClan's sake, will you wake up." The snarls slowly became apparent to the half-sleeping apprentice.

Abruptly she shot her head up, eyes bleary with sleep and fur ruffled. Crouching before her was her mentor, Darkfang. He was notorious in his teachings and would push his apprentices until he was satisfied with their work. This was no exception for the black she-cat.

He glared at her, eyes narrowing. "Well? Are you going to lie there like a moon-blinked owlet or are you going to get up and ready yourself for the raid?"

Blinking the drowsiness away from her eyes she stretched in her nest. Claws sliding out of their cover and back arching luxuriously. Before she knew it one of her back claws snagged some fur. There was a soft, recognizable grumble and moss shifting from behind.

"Oh."Ryepaw flattened her ears against her neck. "Sorry, Mudpaw." Suddenly, she remembered he had taken a nest behind her.

A young golden-brown tom stared at his den mate.

"It's all right," he purred, an amused glint in his pale golden eyes. "I would be more worried with the cat in front of you than one from the back."

Darkfang's hot breath coursing through on his apprentice's neck fur making her shiver. His eyes bore down with deliberate malice. She felt a delicate tremor of fear trail down her limbs.

A growl erupted from his throat. "I don't have all morning for you and your friend to gaggle like a pair of geese. Get a move on now or I'll make you." He withdrew from the den, his paw steps receding.

The black furred apprentice stifled another yawn. She was extremely tired from yesterday's trips in and out of camp. Patrolling for this mornings raid was draining on a young cat like herself. It was all they could do to keep well fed in leaf-bare. It was all she could do.

Now there were rumors going around about a deadly 'NightStriker.' A cat terrorizing wayward cats who strayed too far from camp, alone, and prey to whatever lurked in the swamp. She shivered at the thoughts flooding back in her skull threatening to overwhelm her just before the call of battle. She shook herself.

It was because of him - or it - that any cat was forbade from camp at the wee hours of dusk. Already they had lost three cats. One of those three was her little brother, Boulderkit. He was so young, far too young to be claimed by the messenger of death. The night was their enemy as well as the other Clans. She swore to avenge her fallen brother in hopes to ease the weariness that led the MarshClan into so many mournful burials.

She could recall the last session, sunrises before, with their deputy Crowflight. Doubling the guards not caring if the Clan had a fitful sleep or not. He was strict and angered by so many, valuable losses.

_I can understand his protectiveness. He's afraid. Afraid of losing more cats that we need to survive. To keep ShellClan and BirchClan from weaving in and out our borders, killing our prey and studding us weak with sickness and hunger, and unable to defend._

Hunting for prey and the threat of war was enough as it is. _I don't need some death bringer to worry about too. _

Deciding to going outside before the tom came back to drag her out, she crawled from the apprentice den. She went to her usually grooming spot. Aspenpaw, her best friend and sister, who was licking her paw and drawing it over her ear. She was always an early bird. Priming herself to perfection before she was called for a patrol. She was the more prepared sister, the one everyone admired for her readiness and unwillingness to back down from anything. Ryepaw's pelt prickled with envy.

"Evening,"Ryepaw huffed sitting on her haunches as twisted around to lap at the scraps of moss from her back.

Aspenpaw looked up to see her sister, cleaning herself, as she was moments before. Her pretty blue eyes sparkled as she spotted her lesser sister by her as if she was receiving an honorary for her presence.

"Let me guess, your mentor was your wakeup call again?" She meowed.

Ryepaw shrugged, "The usual."

Her friend snorted then rose to her long legs shaking each forepaw in turn. "I was just coming to wake you, but I imagined you'd prefer to still be curled up in your warm nest - fast asleep - and dreaming your worries away."She sighed, eyes flitting over to Foxclaw.

The tom was briskly chatting with Daisytail one of the few remaining queens. Aspenpaw gave another soft sigh. She was mouthing something along the lines of 'handsome' and 'strong.'

Placing her single, white paw down Ryepaw rolled her eyes," Oh, I'm sure you we're having better things to do than go rouse up lazy me."

Aspenpaw ear swiveled back to the black she-cat. Her own dark tail making a drift in the frosted ground. "You say something?" Eyes hungrily stared the ginger tabby up and down as if her blue gaze could swallow him whole.

Ryepaw snapped her head back in a sharp turn. "Nothing." She hissed. A forlorn look plastered on her face. _You would hardly notice anything I have to say, Ms. Perfectpaws!_

Mudpaw poked his head out of the den's entrance; emerging his whole body from within the hole and toward outside.

"Brrr…" He gasped, picking his way among the snow covered camp. "It's cold," fur bushing out to keep the chilling winds at bay.

Ryepaw rolled her eyes again while Aspenpaw purred.

"What did you aspect? That leafbare was going to be as warm and sunny as greenleaf?"

Mudpaw eyes fell on Aspenpaw. "N-no, I didn't think it would be this cold!" He hissed through clenched teeth.

"I'm practically freezing my fur off!"

Ryepaw sighed, a small plume of her breath formed in a transparent cloud. "Well, the run over the the river will warm you up."

His muscles recoiled. "Er, on second thought, the cold doesn't seem all that bad." His whiskers quivered making both she-cats giggle.

Aspenpaw pricked her black ear tips, slightly turning her head to the pile of half frozen prey. Her belly growled as her twinkling blue eyes stared with interest. "Well, we can't go into enemy's territory with empty stomachs, let's go grab something to eat!"

Ryepaw looked about ready to jump forward and tussle for the last bits of prey when Foxclaw trotted over. "That won't be necessary. Lightstar is about ready to lead the hunting raid. With more hungry cats we have a better chance in catching prey," he tipped his head to Aspenpaw.

"Would you not agree, Aspenpaw?" His voice was soft as the sun's warmth. The black and white apprentice gave an awkward dip of her head. Her eyes darted to Ryepaw who's whiskers were twitching, amused.

Foxclaw smiled a small smile. "I'm glad you see it that way." He looked over his shoulder hearing the call of the leader and a small band of cats following her and her deputy.

"Well, that's our call, shall we go?"

Both she-cats rose up and padded after the ginger tom. Mudpaw streaked ahead of them feeling the wind on his fur. When they neared the edge of their territory they slowed. There stood The River. It's swollen banks seem ready to burst and flood both sides of the territories. One-by-one, the MarshClan cats jumped over the spilling bank. As it neared her turn, Ryepaw imagined herself within the river, feeling the push and pull of the unforgiven waters until she sunk to the icy, dark depths. Never to see the light of day again. She wasn't given a moment to shudder as a tabby warrior shoulder past her. She growled. Fleeting over the rocks with less grace than the cat before her.

. . .

"Mudpaw, will you stop fidgeting!" Aspenpaw whispered. The moon shone faintly on her black-and-white pelt, turning it silver.

The clouds obscured the starry skies as the MarshClan patrol crept away from the massive river. Leaving a trail of damp paws in their path.

Despite Aspenpaw's warning, Mudpaw's whole body continued to quiver with anticipation, his thin tail swishing up dead leaves from below. A gray paw squashed it in place, making Mudpaw squeak in surprise. Twisting his head back he saw Crowflight, the Clan deputy. His huge, orange eyes burned like wildfire. Mudpaw shrunk down, crouching into the hard frosted ground that was cold to the touch.

"Now, I'm telling you to stop. We're in enemy's territory and your constant antiques will give us away!" He growled. Crowflight, known for his short-fused tempers. Quarreling with the golden-brown tabby made it know better if not worse.

He lowered his belly fur toward the earth as Mudpaw did. The golden she-cat was ahead of them, her thick, feathery tail held high. It was a signal to stop.

Ryepaw stalked next to Mudpaw, her eyes following her leader as her ears swiveled from the left then the right.

She took a deep breath, then exhaled as Lightstar sat up. Crowflight was at her side murmuring to dark gray tom. He nodded his head then flicked his tail numerous times to the right. Cats brushed past her, eyes bright with excitement and pelts bristling. Shaking her head clear, Ryepaw pelted after them.

The thick undergrowth felt foreign underpaw. Ryepaw made a soft hiss as a thorn scratched her pad. She raised it as a dribble of blood welled up at the tip. Her tongue rasped over it but the crimson liquid still formed over the open cut. She placed it down again, wincing as the cut throbbed with each step she took.

Her eyes scanned the small area she was pint up with. A small torte was in the midst, claws flashing out as she caught a tail of what looked like a tiny shrew. She held it triumphantly in her jaws. Her prey was left on the ground, dirt and snow scraped over it before she slipped into the thicket of a bramble bush.

Ryepaw sighed wanting to hunt down her own meager gifts from the forest. She opened her mouth to catch the scent of anything available.

_Mouse_. She flickered her tongue over her muzzle. The scent was uncommon but precious to her all the same. She went into a hunter's crouch slithering like a snake on its belly and parting her jaw again to keep the scent of prey in check. She was close. She could almost feel the body vibrating under the mound of snow, scurrying for any remains of tree seedlings.

Her breathing slowed caught up in the moment of hunting. She was in the 'zone', careful to place each paw step after another until she was only a fox-length away. Her dark pelt helping her caste a shadow in the night.

Then, she pounced. It was an astounding leap for one so small. Her paws outstretched and eyes keen on her target. Just when she had lined herself up with the mouse, seizing the opportunity to strike a pelt streaked forward. The mouse darted away to the safety of the tree roots.

Ryepaw made a final attempt to catch it only for her paw to slam into the gnarled roots. She yelped. Her limb jerking back to free her trapped foreleg.

There was shriek. It was soft, almost inaudible. The she-cat ears perked over the ravin. She swallowed, hard. Unbeknownst, her paw slipped free from its splintered clutches. It was that same paw with the cut, leaving her to favor her right side. She hobbled on all her paws, creeping forward and keeping quiet as best she could.

What she saw next, was the shock of her short life; there he was - or rather - there _it_ was. The NightStriker, claiming another victim. Its claws slashing down the side of the body as if moving it with animated paws. The crimson liquid freely flowed down its chest and muzzle without a care. Ryepaw could feel her stomach give a heave. She retched, turning her head to banish the bad dream away. To postpone whatever fate held for that poor cat.

That same tortoiseshell. The she-cat she saw before. Her name was so forgettable. Her life flew by her even by the time Ryepaw was apprenticed. It was so dull and boring(or so she thought). Nothing stood out not even her bland name, Leafpelt.

_A life is a life. It is precious all the same._ Ryepaw blinked up only to gag again when she saw the killer pull out the steamy end-trails of his victim. Her heart interested him the most. It fluttered like a caged bird. It still fought to keep the tortured, dying she-cat alive. Well, the killer wasn't going to have any of that. With his claws he pierced the heart like a dagger, slicing across exposed skin. Blood seemed to burst from the contents of its imprisoned shell. The shredded heart pulsated, shuttered then convulsed into a flat surface of flesh and blood.

She was dead. She knew she was dead. The killer knows, that's why he withdrew studying the creature that was once alive and free. Ryepaw felt a rush of panic rise within her. _I...I've got to tell someone... _She backed away only to realize her mistake as the snow gave way from behind her. She screeched trying to claws back up but her paw stung and preventing her from catching a firm grip. Down the black apprentice went; head over paws, down into the tree roots and ravin she once climbed. Her world went spinning. She felt dizzy and sick to her stomach. And yet, her paw hurt more than it did before. Ryepaw looked at it, eying the scar and then length that it sported. She moved her paw away to see...

A pair of green eyes that flashed in the darkness. A growl vibrated from its chest. Claws glinted in the waning moonlight. There it stood. _No_ She gawked at the NightStriker, disbelief riddled her face, shock and surprise contrasting with one another. _Not it, but_ he.

_He_ descended claws flicking drops of blood in the snow. It was so strange to see it that way. So tainted and impure. He was confident. He had finesse and everything that the she-cat could not uphold too. She was ordinary just like Leafpelt. Just like Leafpelt, she will be silenced.

Ryepaw slowly opened her mouth ready to cry for help. He saw her attempt and lunged. He crush her under his weight. His power and skill was far greater than hers by many leagues. She had no chance with escape, not with her life.

"What do we have here?" Paw pressed against her throat, keeping her voice to barely a whisper.

She gave a feeble attempt to struggle but to no avail did she succeed. She was weak from hunger, weak from fighting. Weakened, by her own transgressions.

"A little apprentice who's strayed too far from her group?" He gave a crooked grin. There was no amusement to his features.

"Why?" She managed to croak, feeling her own life being dangled by a thread of fate. One claw could slice her life away. It would be over before she could rasp her final word.

"Why, you ask?" This bemused him. "It's only a matter of time before MarshClan is finished for good." His eyes slid down to her neck where his paw was settled in. "It makes it no difference if I am the one who speeds up the process."

Ryepaw gasped as the pressure on his hold increased. In the far reaches of her mind she could feel darkness settle into her vision. Her body felt numb and her small struggles were easing as if she was drifting from this nightmare...

"Oh, no. You aren't going to go out like that, sweet thing." Bloody claws struck her throat making her shoot up from her reverie. Her paws flailed once more and as he added his other paw she knew the end was drawing near.

_Stop messing around and do it already!_ She wanted to scream at him. Anything to keep away from his pleasures tortures.

"I'm not going to kill you." He said as if reading her thoughts. "I think it would be better to at least let you live to see another day, but every bargain comes with a price."

Ryepaw opened her mouth only for blood to bubble through her teeth and over her tongue. She felt her body jerk and go rigged with fear. His paws crawled over her throat, spilling blood and ruining her chances to ever talk again. His face was passive, devoid of emotion and lack there of. Her eyes stretched wider than she thought possible. Her mind opening and closing wondering when the sweet silence of death would come.

All she could see was the color _red. _It was bright on her fur and his but never, truly stained it. She fell back when he withdrew. Her body still jerking as if reliving the nightmares of her life. His green eyes flashed over her again, bending forward to burn the memory of his face into her mind.

"What a shame." Her ear weakly twitched at the sound of his voice again. "You seem to have hurt your paw as well." She rasped, not giving a coherent sound.

"Don't worry, they will be here soon to pick up the pieces of where I left." He glanced over his shoulder down as if seeing someone that Ryepaw could not detect with sight or smell.

"Your pain will ease but your mind won't. I intended to scar one cat out of the whole lot I slaughtered." He gave a twitch of his whiskers.

"You just so happened to be one of the I left behind." A sadistic smile curled over his blood stained muzzle as he shadow engulfed the quivering lump of fur beneath him.

**A/N: So this is a couple of generations ahead of the current MarshClan. If anyone from the forum was ever puzzled by the different names. Also, Daisykit made in appearance so it shouldn't be too far from where we've begun. Second note, I noticed that I placed Daisytail in the wrong Clan but when BirchClan and FrozenClan vamoosed after the run in with (hello here) some cats might have switched loyalties in the need to keep alive. Glad that cleared up a few things.**


	2. Chapter 2: Sinking

**2\. Sinking**

He crept down into the gloom. By now, he was accustomed to the scent of decay that used to make him gag at the scent of rotten, dead things. He descended farther down in the gates of Hell. His heart was frantically beating against his tight chest. The solid, rough-hewn stone walls lined both ends of the corridor, sealing the only entrance and exit as a straight shot up the cavernous tunnels.

His icy blue eyes twinkling like stardust and brushed away the trepidation that clung to his pelt like rainwater. "We're nearly there," he spoke in a hushed tone. His lop-sided gait slowed the group down deliberately as if stalling for time.

"You said that that before and yet we're still not a mouse-tail closer to where we should be." A growl erupted from a tabby on his far left.

Hawkstep was her name with her blue eyes narrowing to slits. She didn't trust this tom one bit. From the moment she set her eyes on his patchy white pelt. Out of all of them she didn't stare at him with any difference from his mangled foreleg and horribly scarred muzzle and shredded ears.

Frost didn't flinch away from her piercing blue gaze but in the back of his mind he could feel the thin layer of forlorn coaxing along. If it wasn't sympathy that was shoved down his throat it was anger or disgust. His jaws clenched as he let a crooked smile play on his features.

"S'alright," he gave into his slurring speech. "To be honest, I didn't expect us to get this far to begin with. You're making far better progress than if I wasn't your guide in this rotten place." He shot the she-cat a glare that seemed to pierce her very soul and she gave a soft snort looking elsewhere.

Frost sighed softly wanting to get this journey over and done with. _I should have left them for Lash to sink his teeth into like he did me._ His undamaged black paw rubbed along his clawed throat, feeling every scar, every old gash that painted his mostly furless neck, pink.

_I wouldn't have done no better saving their sorry pelts._ He thought with bitterness seeping into his heart.

He chewed on his tongue before his trace of thought dissolved. He was propelled—faster than he would have liked—forward by someone from behind. A quiet apology was heard and in response, he twitched his tattered ear. He glanced up at the flurry gray shape that plastered his right side, keeping in pace with another dark tabby. His yellow-green eyes sparked with wonder and Frost could almost feel himself recoil at the drunken, starry-eyed look of fascination.

The white tom was much, much younger than the cat on his other side. He was practically dwarfed by the sheer size of the gray tom. He gave an awkward dip of his head and moved along the damp concrete almost feeling the burn of his eyes on him. His pelt prickled with unease.

Dimly, could he make out the mound of concrete and collected piles of dirt and broken branches? Frost traced his eyes over the 'throne' of disposable garbage that that demon horded himself in. _How revolting._ He thought to himself again, searching for the odd-furred tom that traded a cat's soul for one desire of any sort. His dark paw crushed a rat's skull and any other old bones that sunk into the mucky depths.

He wrinkled his nose caught of whiff of his scent and at the corners of his eye could his spot the vulgarity of pelt and bulging eyes. The pair of stormy grey eyes blinked back at him and he retreated back as the other cat came forth. Paws like crowfeet and claws as sharp as talons.

The demon watched the group with little to no interest at all. His eyes didn't take long to find Frost again as he was among the all whom had an entirely white pelt. No matter how ragged and unkempt it might be. He was a monstrous sight to behold. Nostrils flaring with any given moment and muscles rippled under the thin pelt of a being not of this world. His eyes were as sharp as flint. He inclined his head back, observing the newcomers before giving way to his booming voice.

"_Welcome_," his tongue struck out and over his silver-tinged muzzle as if licking the last remains of prey from his lips, "_to my humble abode."_

Someone at the tail end of Frost shuddered at how the tom—the demon—whatever he referred himself, as slithered closer, like a snake hiding in tall grass stalks. Frost was unafraid yet wary of this strange creature. He held no name in particular but regarded himself as 'devil,' 'ogre,' or in better words for cats, 'savage.'

The white tom with the single black paw took a pawstep forward. "Greetings, Savage," he addressed the beastly behemoth with polite courtesy. "I'm sure you're faring well with the sewage and all?"

The demon tilted his head back, mulling over said words. "_I couldn't complain will all the waste and rot those humans plunder day in and day out. Life isn't better here than out there but perhaps that's my way of seeing things, eh_?" His devilish grin sent icy claws on uncertainty down on the white tom's pelt. He shook himself, puffing out his chest and giving a curt yet firm nod of his head.

"You always find a way around them. City life ain't purdy." His tongue flickered over his teeth as he let his accent drop in and pick up as his pleased.

The devil cat's tail twitched. Not wanting to stretch their stay any longer than he had to Frost tail swished around the other tag-along strangers.

"These are forest and mountain cats, Savage. They want to bargain with you and seek what you have to offer, a wish of any kind." He chuckled. "As if they would be need any of it from here."

His brief deposition of humor fell when a black tom shouldered past him. Frost hissed as the tom jostle one of scars that his little group left for him if he didn't cooperate. More reminders like that were to be expected, if things didn't go according to plan. Frost bit back a retort as Blackpelt eyed the demon with no tolerance at all. Savage didn't seem to notice let alone care and flicked his ear at the black tom.

_Now is not the time to boost your selfish ego, wild cat! _He wanted to snap but thought better of it. Thinking of the consequences he would face from both parties the rogue stayed where he did not want to venture out on his imminent doom.

He settled with sitting on his haunches and watched the seen foretell itself. He, for one, was no concern to any cat present with him. He was a broken tom, inside and out. No city boss would want him and he couldn't survive alone for too long without getting snatched up by some wild thing roaming the city outskirts.

The day the dog ruined his body also ruined his chances to survive on his own.

"_An exchange you say_?" Savage licked his lips greedily, feeling him become anticipated for the next drawl of words. The black tom that stood before him was unnerved and kept and aura of cool and collective thoughts.

"_Whatever for, the battle should have taught all of you a lesson about meddling with things that never truly belonged to you."_

Blackpelt's jaw clenched. "Yes, you're right to point that out but we aren't the ones to give up so easily. In exchange for the set of lives, will you do as I have requested?"

Savage, the demon-disguised-cat had no definite name nor did he uphold to promises well. That much was true. His hideous structure shifted letting the words, sentences, and promises of newer, fresh lives sink into his body. He was quiet for several passing heartbeats until he opened his eyes that blazed like storms and wildfire. He drew himself up as his stain-colored fangs bore at Blackpelt and the cats behind them bristled preparing to run or spring.

Confusion fleeted over Frost's face as to whatever deal Blackpelt had made with the devil.

"_Would I_?" Savage hissed smoke fueled from his nose and mouth smelling of cinched fur on fire-lit wood. Dark ash and embers peeled away from the shadows of the throne, killing away the fear-scent and drawing out the astonished wonder and tribulation of what was happening.

_"Let it be known, that I take as much as I please but lives alone will not satisfy me."_ The multitude of carnage, blood and the very image of death and destruction itself coated the stones, sewage water and tunnels. The demon jumped above them all, disappearing into the night of nights leaving the lingering scent of sulfur and hot air.

Frost fur bushed out in freight. His eyes wildly searched back and forth for the death-bringer but he was long gone. He brought his head up while the rest of his body quivered. All pelts were unharmed and accounted for but something about what Savage had said seemed a little off.

A bad omen a warning? Frost didn't have time to think up a possible conclusion to the matter as a far off noise, echoing down below into the farthest parts in the twisty corridors. A sense of dread gripped Frost's heart unwilling to let got for anything. He knew this was bound to happen. It was the right time, the right place. Perhaps that is why the demon himself laid down his nest here at the exact day to where the questing cats would seek answers to him.

"We must leave immediately." He voice was low, raspy and came out in more of a whisper tone than he would have liked but now was not the time to beat down those oddities in him.

A dapple golden cat rose herself up, cocking her head to one side despite the anxiety that swayed her off her paws before. "Why the rush, it's not like we can speed out of here faster than how we came in?"

Frost flinched away at the obvious statement. It was because of his bad leg and low stamina that they had to stay a day or two wondering around the tunnel-ways. It was by luck alone those they any food or shelter from the stinking piles of dirt and gods knows what.

"We don't have time for this," he growled. "The flood water is coming to sweep away everything in its path. If we don't hurry and find the exit we will be the next thing floating in these waters."

Eyes flashed in realization. One cat looked to another murmuring their unsettled by the city cat's words. Another cat squeezed past her comrades. Her blue eyes glittering with worry and she dipped her head in quite acknowledgement to the tom.

"Tell us what we need to do and we'll do it." The Clan cats' pelts rippled in surprise as even the thought of her speaking amazed them.

"Mistfur, you don't th-"

Irritation crackled over her pelt and she whipped around to smack some sense into the tom-cat who spoken out of turns.

She snarled at him. "Thinking is beyond us now. We need to be concerned about getting out of here alive." The tom reeled back, shaking his fur as if clearing his head after the brutal hit he received.

Mistfur glanced at Frost, awaiting his orders. She, out of all of them, understood the dire urgency in this situation. Shocked, and hiding the admiration welling within him he lead them down further into the tunnels, praying to whomever was listening that they would make it out of here in one piece.

. . .

"The water is coming in too fast!"

Frost head snapped back to see the Clan cats tugging their sodden paws in the dark streams of tainted water. Progress was painfully, agonizingly slow. It was impossible to turn around now as he could almost sense the rush of flood water crashing into the stony walls and heading right for them.

His face crumbled in dismay when the rise of water quickened, the gurgling brushed his ears whispering so sweetly that it terrified him even more. He made a final attempt to break free from the rise of panic threatening to drown him alive with the rest of his crew.

"Make a run for it," Blackpelt seized the opportunity to jolt past his so-called comrades and into the darkness of the tunnels. Blinded by the inky black abyss he sped away, leaving them all behind to fend for themselves and the death rushing to meet them.

"What is he, how could he…?" the dapple she-cat whimpered, her entire being shatter into pieces, unraveling threads never to be sewn back together.

Frost held no comfort or sympathetic feelings for either of them. His concerns was no towards them rather it was coming out of this hell hole alive. His breath caught in his throat. His eyes searched around the passage and another surge of dark water met his chest.

He only saw a glimpse of that bright-eyed, proud she-cat that stood against her travel partners. She was lost in the frantic rush of it all. The chambers seem to burst open from either side with the retched waste.

It hit him like a ton of bricks. He twisted and flailed under the weight of debris and greasy gunk that intended to push him further into the rank, hot deep. He fought and clawed desperately at the walls but this proved little effort against the powerful torrent that raked the whole group down and at its mercy.

_Broken._

His body slammed against broken stone and sent him rolling into the next.

_Beaten._

Lungs screaming for air as he sank deeper and deeper into perpetual darkness.

_Scarred, beyond repair._

Frost could feel his bruised body nudged into the direction of an exit. His mind muddled by the water plummeting down as it would allow him too; one danger after another left him in tethers. The moon dappled his pelt and his weightless body streaming down the sludge river. The bars held him back from his freedom. He was so close and yet fate wouldn't put it past his destined end. What of the others? Surely they were drowned or flowing back into some other part of the city.

He could feel his mind slip into ease. He sighed letting the water engulf his figure once more, pulling him down one final time. For once in his life he did not feel any pain or regret or even sorrow.

"_I trade my soul to save another. Let this be enough to relinquish what has been…done."_

Bellowing of laughter rang out his ears and a hiss followed after. "_The deal has been sealed. You belong to me now…_"

"…Your_ entire_ fault…" A voice from the far reaches of his mind climbed its way up, wanting to anguish him once more before leaving him for dead. Blue eyes, bluer than any pair he's known flashed in his vision that was swiftly fading away. Nothing was said then on as his last draw of breath that made its way past his twisted mouth and tongue with a trail of blood.


	3. Chapter 3: Father

**3\. Father**

"Bernie, are you sure you're alright?" A fluffy white tail brushed the gray and white tom's side making him shift closer to his partner.

"Fine, as I'll ever be, "he responded, tongue curling as he let loose an enormous yawn. It staved off the sleepiness as much as he could but the calling for a nice, long nap was getting the best of him.

It had been a long evening spent with his darling beauty. For the past five moons he's been courting her, and much to his delight she's been returning his charming gestures unlike half of the bunch that the tom's been padding after for gods' know how many seasons.

The long, white bib sporting his throat rumbled as the silky she-cat rubbed against his side, erasing any of his failed attempts in capturing these magnificent creatures. A soft, content sigh escaped his tight lips and he let her slide closer to his profound exterior.

"Must you always keep secrets from me?" She mewed, letting her tongue brush over his left ear and a couple of soft laps over his cheek.

He chuckled, "I have nothing to keep from you, my dear." He let his nose touch against her ear for slight comfort.

Her response was a quiet purr before letting her pretty little head lean against his shoulder. Her eyes watched the starlit sky with amazement. Large, yellow orbs swallowed up the twinkling diamonds and their lingering stardust trails.

Part of that lie was true. He hardly had anything to keep from her besides his constant visits with his other, darling she-cats. That was him by nature, a wandering tom looking for the pleasures in life. He didn't have much to enjoy besides treats from Twolegs along with toys and other things to keep him busy. Passing time with his mystery ladies eased his boredom considerably.

"Nothing at all," He murmured, leaning more into her feathery head, resting his chin on it.

. . .

"Bernie, I'm with kits."

The shock was imminent in his wide stare. He could feel his legs tremble as a nervous shiver passed down his body from nose to tail tip.

"Wha...How?" He said it before he realized it and a hurt expression morphing into one of annoyance clearly present on the she-cat's face.

She bristled, tail lashing. "You know damn well how. How else do you think I became pregnant. I didn't see another tom other than yourself, Bernie. You know I'm faithful only towards you."

"Right, right, how stupid of me to think that." He said in a mumbly voice. Eyes downcasting towards his white toes.

He just couldn't believe what he was hearing, and from his own ears. This is the first time anything like this has happened. He's been so careful up to this point. Maybe there was a miscalculation and…

He shook his head clearing his jumbled thoughts before looking back to her. A trace of fear laced in her eyes but as she took a sympathetic step forward he took the same step, but back.

"I...I have to go." He blurted.

She flinched but answered to him anyways,"Go? Go where?"

"Away. Home, I mean. I have to think about this. Our future and," he swallowed trying to say more, "theirs."

"Ah," her eyes steeled over as she straightened up to her full height. "Yes, think about that. Let it sink in and then, well, I hope you've decided what to do about all of this. Good night, Bernie." She whisked into the light of the moon. Tail bobbing from behind as she leaped and soared over the picket white fence into her own separate garden.

Thank his lucky stars he lived two doors down from her own place. Bernie released the bundle of breath he didn't at first realize that he was holding in. He sat down feeling his anxiety wash away like the pitter-patter of rain.

His lower jaw tightened as he tried to think of a reasonable solution to this.

_I can't go back. I couldn't go back. If I told her the truth she would swamp me with guilt and I don't want this...Never wanted any of this to happen._

Bernie watched the stars swim under his steady, intent look. "I have my ways. I always have ways to avoid unlikely situations." He chanted to himself, wanting his tensed muscles to relax and be at is once more. The breeze coursed through his fur like slender, cool fingers.

He knew what he had to do. The less reasonable solution but it would work out best for him, in the end.

. . .

Sandy pale stripes merged into his charcoal gray pelt. The fur tips mingled and brushed against one another like waves crashing on sand-golden shores.

"Gods, I've missed you." The mew was genuine and light with relief.

Bernie drank in her scent, the smell of wildflowers and honeydew was intoxicating. Clearing his throat he spoke," It's good to see you too, Shellie. How have you been?"

The faintly striped tabby stood back to look over the tom just to make sure he was there, all there and before her sparkling green eyes. "Lonely without you." She answered.

"Bernie, so much has happened and is yet to happen and I've been so worried and…"

His tail tip fell over her squabbling mouth shutting it to a close. "My dear,"he withdrew his tail,"you can talk all you want now that I'm here."

_Here, only for you. _He added silently.

Shellie eyes shined like water rippling in a glass bottle. Mesmerizing, but beautiful all the same. "Remember when I told you about wanting to start a family?"

The tom stiffened a anxiousness prickles down his spine. "Uh huh. Did something happen. Are you...?" He let the sentence hang there before the tinkling of her laughter like silver coins brings him down to earth again.

"Bernie, I knew you were humorous but my gods are you funny." Shellie giggled some more before continuing. "Heaven's no. I'm no longer bearing kits."

He took a breath not realizing he was holding any before his easiness drained off of him once more. "No longer. Y-you mean."

The question was unanswered as a tiny ball of crimson fluff presented itself beside Shellie. Blazing green eyes blinked up at the other tom, tilting his head to one side in wonderment.

Bernie propelled backwards, neck fur rising in alarm. This was terrifyingly shocking! The thought of kits made the dreadful feeling of parenting rise up from deep within his skull. He groaned feeling as if he would be sick.

"Shellie, is he? Are you sure that he's mine? I mean, accidents can happen and knowing you..."

A hard slap across the face ended all other sentences that flowed from his mumbling mouth. Wails of distress echoed from the courtyard. The tiny kitten was hurdled within the safety of his mother's tail as it coiled around his body like a snake.

"How could you say such a thing?!" A hard shake passed through Shellie's body. Eyes glossy and wet.

The sadness was forthcoming. It was real. Something Bernie could never understand. The sympathetic emotion that was oblivious to him. He could never understand heartache. Bernie couldn't understand her. It was a critical moment in her life-he knew that much-but everything afterwards was so confusing. It was a forbidden topic almost too uncomfortable to discuss.

_If only I could get away._

He took a step back. Another step, and another before there was several tail-lengths between them. The sting of her claws was still there on his cheek. His nose detected the small hints of blood but his imagination could be playing tricks. His mind was warping into panic. Unthinkable behavior with a dash of chaotic fear.

"Maybe I should leave. You don't want me to say what I need to and you're kit doesn't need to experience this sort of break up." The gray and white tom's gaze was steady and fixed on the new queen and her son.

Shellie wrapped her tail tighter around her only son. "Perhaps you should." He ears flatted against her head. "It's better of our son as well as me. Go. Leave. Don't ever come back."

He was gone in an instant. The smoldering stare that his former lover and forgotten son left him was haunting. He was always to remember this for the rest of his days.

. . .

"You never loved me." Sore and bloody, the tom lied down where he fell. Miserable and with hardly anything to call his own.

His ear twitched at the sound of approaching pawsteps. Glancing up into the dazzling light and face made his eyes squint. Distinctly he saw her features; sharp and strikingly definite. Another one of his darling mistresses.

He sighed heavily. Fatigue eating away at what was left of his energy. Body drained and tongue dry with far less of what he had to say. What he wanted to say to her.

"I never wanted to become a father. I'm so sorry." His words echoed out in his own pitiful sadness. No matter what he did it always ended up like this. Missy knew this as well that's why she tried far less than the others to be affectionate and loved by any tom from across the neighborhood streets.

She had a little fire in her eyes. Far more than the tabby cat before her but less than the she-cat he first laid eyes on.

Missy spared him a look, disgusted. "This just goes to show you how much you've messed up in your life. You never want to settle down that's for certain but you keep living a lifestyle as though you want to. You're twisted in the head. Eager to chase some she-cats' tail but never once thought of the consequences."

Bernie's claws dug into the soil beneath. He hated being scolded like some kit fresh from indoors of a comfort home. He hated being talked down, self-conscious of his actions, and corrected for his many, many mistakes.

Nothing good ever came from this kind of method to live. It was dull, and boring and with a touch of excitement.

"And these no-name jobs are going to get you killed one day. Mark my words, just look at you!" Sh exclaimed, detecting every scar every strike against his disobedience and close calls from death. It fueled her anger. Giving her purpose to shout and tell him what he's cut out in the path he's chosen to follow.

He gruffly spoke,"it's none of your concern. I can handle myself better than before. I'm not as naive as I was and Gold finds me easier work to do for far better things to enjoy."

"Shut up, you stupid tom!" She snapped. "I'm so sick of your run around games and broken promises and 'things will get better just wait and see' acts!" She lashed out catching his ear and muzzle. Blood dripped down his chest turning his white bib pink. He didn't try to fight back it was useless to speak reason with her.

Bernie would take his punishment quietly and when she was out of breath he would lick his wounds and walk off to sleep another day.

"Next time will be different. Whether you heed my word or not isn't my problem any longer." He pushed himself up again, wobbly in the knees before turning and leaving behind another chapter of his story.

. . .

White. So pure, untouched and holy. It was soft like a dove's feather, and soothing again every stroke of his tongue. Even though there was a family given to gentle creature and was taken away she still seek out the best. For herself and her newfound group of cats.

The tom never felt this way about any female. Not even the many lovers before her. She was different. She was perfect. She was his to keep and hold and protect. She was also staying behind and not traveling with him back to the city and it's hard life.

That he could understand, but not by his side? He could run off together with her. No one would find them out in the middle of no where. He could start over like he always told himself he would. It would be just the two of them, and perhaps maybe, just maybe he could accept that part of him that he rejected so many times before.

"Father?" Golden eyes gaped at Bernie. Shining like the sun setting before them as another day drew to a close. The large gray kit stumbled before Bernie, and his paws caught the klutzy kit before he could slip into the water.

For once, that word didn't send him running toward the hills. Or trip over his tail and paws or have him wondering why he always ended up in problems like this one. He didn't truly get his motives either. He seized thinking and let the crash of the open sea and squawks of seagulls let the sweet dream last until he awakened.

"Yes, Ripplekit." His throat vibrated in a soft purr. The white pelt beside him moving into the curb of his belly.

"Can you please stay just this once?" His mew was so innocent. High-pitched as if he was born yesterday. It has been one month since his kits' birth. An entire four months when he arrived in this little grouped Clan or so they called it. And only two months time did he share such intimate days with Winter. So beautiful and perhaps the one she-cat he's been searching for.

Bernie drew his tongue over his son to stop his antic quivers. "I might." He said, glancing over at Winter as her daughter snuggled into the pure white fur of her mother. The perfect picture that only his nightmares seem to spurn up from the far corners of his mind.

He settled into the quiet scenery letting the lull of the sea accumulate in his memories. "I just might, this time around."

**A/N: I apologize for the very late update. It's been quite the busy month as the other months have been. I'll be sure to present another chapter longer and much appreciated with this one. It wasn't easy choosing the most plausible character for this role themed "father," but I managed in the end. This chapter should end on a happier note than the other two. **


	4. Chapter 4: Exploit

**4\. Exploit - (v.) benefit unfairly (n.) a bold or daring feat.**

**1) Red**

**2) Quote inspired by an author**

**3) Madness**

Gold lay on one of the cushions, her golden pelt was ragged and she had not bothered to eat in the last few days, again. Blue eyes were usually sharp and always searching had dulled and stared at nothing. She didn't know how much time had passed since her brother had betrayed her, but it felt like an eternity. He had called it a simple parting of ways, as if they could ever be parted.

Didn't he understand? They were supposed to be a team, that was what their father had always said; she the the brains and he the brawn. How dare he leave her behind! Then there were the times when she thought she heard his voice or saw him through the window, but it was always her imagination. Why did he leave her alone?

"Are you alright?" A tenor voice echoed along the paper thin walls of the spacious bedroom. Sunlight sliced through delicate worn out curtains. Burly shoulders fleeting in and out of the transparent light.

Marmalade spoke again, quieter this time, "do you need anything at all?"

"I'm lost without him." She wailed. Her nose trembling under her dirt covered paws. The large ginger tabby huffed not wanting to be swept under the turmoil and despair as his once, proud leader had succumbed to.

"You're better without him. Better without any of those fools." Marmalade soothed. His thick tail coursed down her flank. He tried not to flinch away as his tail tip detected every lining bone of her rib cage; blanketed over with rubbery skin and fur.

Gold whimpered. "I-I can hear him sometimes. When you're out hunting and Pale tending to her young. I can sense his presence. The flash of his silver pelt and those eyes…" She rubbed her bony cheek against her forepaw, purring so sickly sweet.

"Oh, why did he have to leave? We were a perfect fit. He and I…" She sighed mournfully. Murmuring her precarious memories into a sightless past.

The ex-soldier recalled how the golden she-cat tried so hard to keep them from falling apart. The words still rang fresh in his thoughts as if he was re-entering that hellish night of stinging rain and hot blood. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and blood pounding in his ears. Silver-turned-Valention lashed out with words to his littermates and not his claws.

It was something to break even the most resolved of cats. Gold, being that cat. Marmalade sat on his haunches as the anguish in her eyes reflected his own confusion.

They had won the battle, but in the end they had lost their chain-linking every one of them that night. The hefty tom's claws gripped the rotten floorboards reminiscing his claw-deep memories.

_"...Never was your equal!"_

_"Don't you ever call me by that name." Silver growled. "Never again." Stripping himself from her, from his birthright. _

_Her blue eyes sought to quell their senseless fighting, in front of all their cats. Gold and Silver were joint leaders, meant to bring down even the toughest of enemies to their knees. For where one sibling lacked the other picked up and sewn their tyrannical rule. It was a set example of perfect partnership molded into something this city has ever seen before. They were inseparable, or so they believed._

_"No brother of yours...Gold...No more...It's over." Silver tore himself away from the bond that woven Gold and him so tight that nothing would unravel them. But something did. They fell away caught in the wind like a loose spider's web._

_Gone. Gone. GONE. _

Valention had ruined them all.

Marmalade looked up wanting to say something but another shape filled into the stuffy room. His battle-scarred ears perked up, eyes lite with renewed wonderment.

"Red," he breathed. "What in gods' name are you doing up here? Where's your mother?"

The tiny scarlet kit fumbled around the room. Sniffing at the ragged carpet and all the broken glass and scorched wood. Her dainty paws catching a feather drifting in a gentle breeze.

Marmalade sighed heavily, crossing over to her and seize any more needless actions from the three month old she-kit. "What are you doing?" He asked again.

Red looked up this time. Her yellow eyes, dull and with traces of determination gleaming in them. "Pouncing. Ma said I have to get really good if I want to hunt for myself. She said, it's never too early to learn." She continued with her frolicking not minding the behemoth of orange fur and paws stopping her from her pretend practices.

"Hunt? Pouncing?" Gold broke free from her reverie. The tired old she-cat grunted. "We have hunters to tend to the young. Where's your father? Scarlet is his name?"

Red looked up. "Scarlet is my sister, and no, Papa is right here with me."

The young she-kit tipped her head to Marmalade who steered clear from her innocent gaze.

"Ahem, mind you, I've told you not to call me that. I see no reason why Pale had to go and blurt such nonsense but I am not your father, Red." He said stiffly. All the while the dark she-kit pranced around his toes and swatted at his muscular underbelly.

"Either way, you treat us better than our own father would. Right, Papa?" She squeaked making the tom groan.

Gold croaked, rising to her paws in a failed effort to stretch. "Damn straight." She wheezed. "Marmalade is the finest guard I know." She turned to the ginger tom, her scrawny limbs shaking to keep steady.

"Do you remember, Bee and Tigerlily? You weren't fond of kits then as you are now. They were far more helpless than Red and I have little faith in her, yet."

Marmalade frowned. "Yes, but those were many seasons before their little mishap with Twolegs. I would not be surprised if they're dead by now. Tigerlily, mainly, because of her sight and her...dependent nature."

Gold hummed, recalling those long forgotten days. "Bee would never let anything happen to her so long as he was around. He would have made a fine soldier if not for his little distraction."

"Things come and go as cats do." He answered, scooping up Red in his jaws.

Gold dropped her head, a shiver passing down her legs. "What's become of us? Cats are broken wanting to be mended and those who are are petrified to become broken again. We're lower than scum and too cowardly to fight back for more than what's been lost." The golden she-cat's voice barely reached a whisper as she mumbled to herself again.

She was losing herself as the day stretched to night and broke to dawn again. He pitied her he truly did but nothing he did would mend her shattered resolve. That heartbroken soul would take more time than he could spare.

"We should go hunt," He suggested. "That's something we haven't done in a while. Once I take this little rascal back to her mother." He lifted Red higher from the ground though her feeble attempts to escape did not seem to bother.

Gold sighed wistfully. "Hunting is good. Perhaps I can muster up what else there is left for me in the outside world. Oh, and take Red with us. We can spare Pale a few moments of worrying over her adventurous daughter."

Marmalade gave a disdainful snort but did not object. Red's bushy tail tickled his chin as he padded out of the room. The older she-cat trailed after him. Her thoughts mulling over into a sweeter moment in time.

. . .

"Tuck your paws in more. You look like a hibernating dormouse plump from its leaf-fall harvest."

Red visible creases in her face formed into scorn. Her muscles ached already as much concentration and effort she put into her stalking not once has yet to satisfy the critique tom.

"No, no, no!" He growled, forcefully putting pressure on her lower half. She squeaked, reeling her head up and scared her potential prey who was haring into the ground. She hissed, glaring daggers at her teacher who's eyes shown just as much contempt.

"Red, you're very poor in listening." He shook his head, looking towards to orange-red skies. "And Pale expects you to learn on your on. Yeah, good luck with that." He bantered.

She bristled. "I'm _trying_ okay? It's not like I can learn all of this, tail lifting and paw drifting over, and whatchamacallit-'master skills'. I'm just three moons, Papa!" The last remark came out as a mewling wail.

His nose wrinkled. "Pathetic. Whiny and unwilling to improve. You're a waste of time." He turned away, ready to leave when a regrettable huff followed up to his ears.

"I'm sorry." Red scuffled a dark red paw over the drifting frost and earth. "I just...I want to get good and in a hurry. Mama said that 'he' won't be around for much longer and that she'll be relying on us to hunt when she won't be able to." Her ears drooped a little.

Marmalade paused, staring down at the little scrap of fur. She was no bigger than his tufted tail end. "Well," he glanced around noting that the sun was dipping into it's horizon-calling for its closing departure. Her head rose up looking hopeful at his next phase of words.

"We could stay a few moments longer." He could see relief wash over her anxious gaze. "I should find Gold first. Stay put." He said with a meaningful look. His hefty paws crushed what little vegetation sprung up from the cracks and crevices of the rundown apartment complex.

"Gold?" A chilling wind ran down his back seeding a trickle of fear in his conscious. He hadn't seen his ex-leader for the past sunrise. Where had she wondered off to?

"Gold," he yowled this time but the only reply was an echo of her name. His ears swiveled left and then right. No sound. Barely a thin scent trail to nudge him in the right direction.

The hefty tom was to call for the golden she-cat when he spotted her at least; staggering around some dumpster just as a trio of yellow monsters were demolishing parts of their old home.

"Gold," he cried just as he steered clear from a clash of rubble and debris as it scattered across barren ground. The remains showered overhead making him squint his eyes, barely missing her pale golden shape disappear from his peripheral vision. A metal piece clanked-burying deep within the uprooted soil and caught on his flank-marking it-taking bits of his fur with it.

He coughed inhaling too much of the dust, finally deciding to crawl to avoid more damage to himself. He blinked up as her pelt flashed before him again.

Gold stood on a high enough concrete slab avoiding the large massive paws of this unholy behemoth. It reared back its ugly, dark head, roaring and spitting speckles of earth right back at her. She snarled in retaliation.

The monster tested its strength with the ex-city boss. Hideous beast raring to go battle against the former victor of the Eastern Twolegged creatures' realm.

Marmalade could only watch. She seemed to be saying something along her smarting remarks. He couldn't hear what she was saying out right as the terror of being caught up in this storm freight him to the core and deafened his ears.

Tail lashing she steeled over. Her resolve to finish off the monster shattered within heartbeats. "Silver?" She mouthed. Something had caught her eye, moving her exterior away from her for and to something far more important than the delicate balance of life and death, survival and utter defeat.

Then, the mighty beast clambered down on the bramble thorns and man-made rock, taking Gold and any living remains within its jaws.

Instincts went into overdrive as he plowed through the clouds of earth. Claws kicking up dead leaves and bramble thorns. He caterwauled, rivaling the monstrous beast's threats for death and devastation. Blood roared in his ears but that didn't deter him from clambering between the jagged teeth and a single two-colored paw. He made a forceful leap feeling his muscle wrench as he was pulled up into the purple-orange night.

His own large, russet forepaw reaching for hers. He could almost feel the brush of her toes...Light and soft to the touch.

He could feel black dots drift into his gaping eyes. His world was spinning and he could feel his body lay heavy the more strain he put himself in.

"Nearly there..!"He hissed softly as another muscle gave out and another. His claws scored down the yellow monster's cheek as he slipped. Marmalade locked his eyes to Gold's paw as if the smallest of twitches marked hope in his heart. Searing pain exploded through his back leg, ridding him useless. He twisted and writhed before landing with a sickening thud.

. . .

Nostrils flared minutely sniffing any familiar scents of home. Paws feeling around a hard, smooth surface. Bright lights replaced the space of where forest smells and warmth should be.

White. Stagnant. Air.

His breathing was irregular as he forced his body to pull forward and upright. Something shifted beside him as foreign being slipped his tail passed his flank.

"I see that you've awakened." A honey-toned voice tickled Marmalade's tufted ear. His head tipped to one side, vision blurred by the surrounding lights.

A mackerel-striped tabby came to view. Dull gold eyes-yellow, almost like an egg yolk. His long tail flicked to and fro drinking in every fiber of the tattered tom's being.

"And you must be my respectful, late father-sister's lapdog, no?" The tom didn't give Marmalade enough time to respond. "He speaks so freely of her and their little fiasco back in _his _days of glory and power." He flexed his thorn-sharp claws.

Marmalade cleared his throat though it did little to shake the raspy, aged vocals. "Who are you," he croaked, trying to get a better view of him. "I've never known you were in Gold and Silver's group?"

A deep, audible breath escape the dark tabby tom's lips. "Yes, how incompetent of me. You wouldn't know me at all. Not even that insane little she-cat you try to protect from the inevitable."

The ginger tabby's attention heightened fully as the opposite tom regarded the former eastern city leader with little care.

His lips peelled back into a ferocious snarl. "Don't speak of Gold like that you little mongrel. I'll wipe that smirk off your flea-bitten face!"

"Excuse me of my rudeness." He bent down to lick over his delicate paws before swiping his ears two-to-three times with them. "I've forgotten that her most loyal soldier also had a, ah, short-fused temper." He meowed.

Marmalade still bared his teeth at the dark tabby. "What's your name, mange-pelt. Or do you prefer me calling you all sorts of ugly names? I'm sure you're way more used to that" He spat acidly.

"Amadeus, leader-in-training. More or less escaping my blood sister and death itself." His devilish smirk didn't phase Marmalade one bit. Irritation pirckling his pelt.

He swung his head around only regretting his irrational choice. He took in the off-white walls, silver-meshed dens and pellet food and sweet-smelling water.

"Where am I?" He demanded.

Amadeus's infamous smile played on his profile once more. "Whitepelt territory. This is the _crème de la crème _of places to get tossed, locked up, and sold to the highest bidder." He said simply. His eyes watched the large tom's features shift into comprehension.

"You mean...we're..." Marmalade tried to slam his body weight into cold, prickly cage. His claws rendered useless against the Twoleg-made contraption. His eyes ran wild all over spotting cats-young and old miserable in their state of capture.

The tabby stifled an idle yawn, tongue curling over his fangs. "Be still, or they'll come and inject you with sleep." Tail wrapped tightly around his paws. "You'll regret that decision, mind you."

Marmalade rounded on Amadeus, eyes lite anew. "Where is she?" He was on the edge of his sanity, chest heaving with unease.

"Easy there. She's alright. That one. Though, I'm not so sure that she will live in the next two sunrises, give or take." Amadeus's muzzle pointed to a lower cage to the she white floor. A brown mat soiled with her fluids. He could detect the stench from it as a lump formed in his throat.

"Gold." The huge tom's paw pad rested on the silver mesh below him seeking to reach for her. Gold didn't so much as twitch in his call.

He sighed. "She won't live past today." Sharp distress ran thick in his mew. His resolve lifting into the surface of his shattered mind. "What will happen if we somehow do escape?" Marmalade asked.

"There's only one way to get out of here. Death is one." The heavily striped tabby enjoyed the desolation sliding over Marmalade's face. "The other," he tipped his head to one side letting the answer drip down his mouth.

"Become a kittypet."

"So, a chose between life for the amusement of Twolegs or death." Marmalade said dryly, restating Amadeus's words.

Amadeus shrugged his shoulders. "Not much of a bargain but something is better than nothing. The watch around here has tightened after that little escape of a she-cat a few days back." He poked at the lock caging him from within the den.

"Now there's only that option. Won't be long now." He drawled. "Too many of us are filling up the silver dens. They'll put you up for display and if you're not taken within a certain amount of days, then you have no choice but death."

The orange tabby circled around his den only finding his side denmates words to be truthful. The cold, metallic mesh surrounded all sides of the cage. He had no where else to turn to but the thought of freedom melted into his racing thoughts.

He took a slow, steady breath and then another before turning back to Amadeus who was dipping his narrow head down to lap up a few mouthfuls of the tainted water.

"Silver found a way to live without Gold or even the cats he left behind. Troublesome cat. Gold's far too complex to figure out and I fear her final days are closing in. There's only one thing left for me and I'm ready for what lies ahead.

"Even if it means tearing myself up in the process."

. . .

She couldn't keep track of the passing sunrises. Though, thoroughly, she remembered the constant padding of Twolegs paws as they changed her dried rabbit droppings and stale water. How they caress her back and whisper sweet nothings in her ear. Her wounds cleaned. Her fur in mid condition; soured with strange scents they spritz on her every so often.

It was a daily routine that she would expect from hairless, pink upwalkers. One day, however, the Twolegs he was most familiar with-a female-treated him with particular care. Cooing and murmuring softly in his tattered ear.

Her eyes peered over to Amadeus who was being treated with care just as much as him. The dark striped tom didn't mind the extra attention. He encouraged it with loud purrs and behaving obsequiously along her long pale colored arms.

_Hmph. Fawning over your captures, eh? Gold_ mused in his own thoughts. She saw the whitepelt upwalker unlatch Marmalade's den, grabbing the muscular body of the fully grown tom.

She grimaced. Her battles have been fought and won. Her time was ticking by heartbeats now. The end was coming or so she believed. Gold's heart clenched as both Marmalade and she was taken away through separate corridors.

She had already given up on her life, accepting the inevitable. She hadn't realized what she's been keeping her alive up to this point.

"Mar," she mewed weakly. Her head fell to one side of the Twolegs forearms her brushed her neck soothingly.

The large ginger tabby almost was identically walking with her. His dark amber eyes shining, grief-stricken. She forced a small, sad smile on her mouth.

_Live, be free of your own choices. I can't guide your pawsteps. I can't keep you away..._

That was what she intended to tell her former soldier. He prized and spectacular warrior of her realm. The wall split the two cats away. One being sent to the outside to live another day, the other finally given the peace that one attempted to find from within.

**A/N: Ack! Longest one-shot I've done so far in the Warriors fandom. Silver/Valention's name is pronounced as "Vah-lee-tion." The Italien nae Valentiono means brave or strong. Explains why he keeps the root of his power and discards anything that reminds him of his sister, Gold. Also, Gold and Silver is based off a very popular game. Though I've only played the updated versions which are still pretty good. **

**We'll get to see more of those darling siblings again in another time.**


	5. Chapter 5: Boredom

**Chapter 5: Boredom**

"It's_ too_ cold to being playing outside." A squeaky voice bounced off the cramped cave walls that were dark and musty den.

A delicate tabby she-cat flicked her kit away with a sweep of her tail. "The fresh, cool mountain air would do you all some good." Her grey nose pressed against her kit's cheek.

Featherkit just glanced at his mother and sister. His lips curling up, eyes flickering in contempt. He honestly couldn't understand their relationship; mother and daughter. Two sides of the same mossy-rock. He shook his fluffy ginger head not wanting to explore further into something he didn't fully perceive.

He wasn't allowed to lose himself to a lulling slumber when a husky shape came inside the low den. A rabbit dangling from the tom's jaws and several scars ran along his face. He dipped his head to the queen and their kits. "Morning,"He muffled before placing down his catch of the day.

Featherkit watched the display of his mother and his supposed father's morning ritual. She didn't seem all that interested in his on-going warrior-like duties. After all, he was only contributing his share to the Clan of lesser rank. He hunted and patrolled while she raised and taught the next generation of mountain Clan warriors or medicine cat.

"You're not going to ask how I got these?" He gestured his tail to his severely scratched face and dirt-crusted muzzle.

The young queen's ear twitched with displeasure. "Ah, yes. How hare-brained of me. How _did_ you get those scars?" She asked airily.

Beetlekit tumbled toward her father who ignored her. He felt slightly awkward around his own kits-in the very least-until they themselves contributed to their Clan.

The cream colored tom snorted. "Thanks for asking," he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I got them from catching this here critter." He pointed a paw to the limp rabbit that Beetlekit was trying to fight. Annoyed, Volewhisker moved her away.

"Stop that. Go sleep or something." He reprimanded her. Giving a firm look at his only daughter. She shrunk and hid behind her brother, Featherkit.

He just glanced at her, shuffling towards Finchkit who was sheltering under the cool shadows of the cavern.

Hawkstep's mouth pulled into a frown. "Be a little gentler to my kits."

"They're my kits too," he shot back, feeling another one of those furballs' tail angle around his forepaw. He shook him or her away, he couldn't tell the gender apart from them at such a young age. He backed away to the den's entrance.

"They'll be spoilt before you know it. The world isn't nice nor pretty, you should remember that." He warned, stepping his head out into the sunshine and cool air. One paw drinking in the warmth of the day, the other placed in the shadows of the mountain rock.

The queen growled, something Featherkit recognized only once or twice in his dreams.

"Kits," she said stiffly, "go outside and play."

Beetlekit began to whine again. "But mom, it's too coooold." Her kit-fluff sprang up, exaggerating her claim.

"Go on Beetlekit, I promise it'll be quick," Hawkstep replied. She turned her back on them and Fetaherkit instinctively knew that this was the end of the conversation to stay behind.

"Finchkit let's go." His head ducked between his rounded shoulders as he went past his father and into the camp.

Beetlekit huffed feeling she had lost the battle before it begun. With sorrowful eyes to her brothers she padded out of the warm, cozy den. She glanced back as the towering figure of Volewhisker and half-crouching Hawkstep as the image burned into her memory.

"Now what do we do?" Finchkit mewed sleepily. Eyes drooping as if reflecting his dark gaze to that of the rising sun.

Featherkit looked around finding himself bored out of his mind. It was just another day in camp usually being fed before being called to sleep and grow for another uneventful day.

He was about fed up playing the nice kitten. "I want to hear what Father has to say."

His sister's cream and white fur prickled with unease. "Urhm, I don' think that's a good idea. He already looked pretty mad."

He rolled his eyes. "Both of them looked madder than a fox in a fit but I want to know why. Haven't you ever wondered what the fuss was all about besides him always bringing prey, and she never once returning with a greeting purr or smile when he enters?"

Featherkit just stared as his brother and sister who gave a curious look to one another. It was a brief glance but shared by all three kits, in the end.

He nodded. "Then it's settled." Not giving them time to follow he scampered back toward the nursery den. Large bounders-matching in size-blocked most of the sunlight and buffeting winds. His fluffy pelt rippled in waves of stripes and dark ginger fur. Claws scraped the rough terrain as he inched closer; ears pricked and eyes peeling under a cleft in the rocks.

"-Only had kits for the good of our Clan. I love them, but I don't love you or even care about you, so can you just leave us alone," the she-cat hissed.

Featherkit was mildly shocked never actually witnessing his mother in an uproar. She was the best at concealing her true intentions. Shielding her kits from the worst of the world and sheltering them to be well behaved and protected by the warrior cats around them.

Volewhisker retaliated with his own equal frustrations. "I was only trying to build up a healthy relationship between the five of us. Since you don't seem to care about me much only them, then the kits will be weak. You may not see it now but you will and regret your choices." He swatted the rabbit closer to her, hoping the head or foreleg would bop her on the nose, knocking some kind of sense into this stubborn she-cat.

"Have a good day, you won't be seeing me near you or the kits for a while." He exited the den.

Featherkit backed up against the rock before climbing half-way up hoping to avoid another collision with his father. He kept his eyes on the slowly trudging tom. He didn't spare so much a glance at the nursery. Only his whiskers drooping and eyes downcast to his cream-colored paws.

The ginger kit heard his mother again, one ear turned to the entrance. "Whatever, Volewhisker. I'll respect you as a deputy, but nothing more. You will stay away from my kits!" The tabby queen growled back. As the tom left, she looked towards the entrance.

"Kits!" Hawkstep strained a meow. "Come back inside, we're done talking."

Featherkit appeared from behind the boulder surprising his mother to say the least. Her hard blue gaze gentled before lowering her head to place a gentle lick of her son's cheek.

"Forgive me if you heard any of that. Your father and I just need some...distance between us. I promise nothing else will come of it." Those words were meant more for her than Featherkit. Either way, it didn't matter to him nor did he really care.

Adult cats had more complicated lives than he could imagine. Featherkit was not about to wrap his head around such nonsensical drama. He was a kit after all. Barely weaned and even so, did't declare himself anything greater than a mischievous trickster. Delving his boredom into the everyday lives of the Clan and its mountainous dwellers.

Featherkit let his mother brush down to feathery tips of his ears one more time before doing her next mechanical lick. "Is father coming back soon?"

Hawk step's eyes darkened. "'Fraid not, love he has duties to attend to. When you're older you'll see him more often."

The bright ginger tabby gaped his mouth open to the max just as his sister and brother was ushered in followed closely by a very stressed out Russetfoot.

"Honestly, you can barely take an eye off these two." She gazed sternly at the pair of siblings who shrunk under her meaningful stare.

The tabby queen huffed before going to scold her kits leaving Featherkit to roam his eyes over to the seemingly plump looking reddish-brown warrior.

_That's odd._ He mentally said. _Never noticed that before._

"Russetfoot," he mewed, "I think you're getting fat."

"Featherkit!" His mother screeched making the young tom-kit flinch.

"Well, it's true. Look!" He pointed a paw to her round belly that swayed with every pawstep. Her eyes blinked shyly at her belly and back at Hawkstep who was about ready to snap at her son again.

The warrior she-cat looked down at her paws that were caked with dust and sand. "Oh, and to think no cat would notice let alone a kit." She whimpered.

Hawkstep had the right to cuff him over the ears for being so rude. Russetfoot was a sensitive creature when it came to her body weight. Trying to impress her mate Cinderfur with her astounding good looks in hopes to bridge their shaky partnership. He still hadn't fully forgiven her for leaving him with their first litter of kits.

Though, now they were fully grown and exploring the ventures of the outside world.

_Where I should be, _Featherkit thought ruefully. Another sharp blow to the ears made him hiss and shoot a seething glare at his mother. His paw rubbed the soreness away but the sting lingered.

"What?" He grumbled just as Hawkstep shot him a look from him to Russetfoot and back again. He sighed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so mouse-brained."

"It's alright. I mean, I'm already looking about ready to burst with them."

"Yeah, well, you do look on the bigger side of things."

Another swat to his ears silenced any more scathing remarks. He stepped out his mother's range to smack him again, fur fluffed out twice his size.

"_Okay," _He growled, white paws shaking in anger.

The tabby queen nostrils flared minutely. "Oh, go bother some other cat and leave Russetfoot to me."

And with that the dark ginger tom-kit padded out of the nursery tail stuck straight in the air as he marched back outside. His siblings ran close behind him.

. . .

"Just think for a minute you guys we'll have more kits to play with!" Beetlekit sighed dreamily. Already thinking of new games to try for their to-be denmates.

Featherkit snorted. "That won't happen." He switched a forearm that was wrapped around the other, relaxed.

"Why's that?"

He thought for a heartbeat before answering. "We're the favorites in everyone's eyes."

"That so?" She didn't sound convinced.

"Yes, and it's because I said so!" He howled, standing up again, teeth bared. Beetlekit blinked at her brother before glancing at Finchkit who had his attention on a certain golden pelt warrior.

Featherkit followed their stares and smirked. "Oh, and Finchkit is gawking over Amberflame. Like that's anything but old news."

His brother glanced over his shoulder in disdain. "You know what Featherkit? I'm just about tired of you and your hissy-fits. You got too much kit-fluff in your ears, so why don't you do yourself a favor and groom it out for once." The light brown and white tabby strutted over to the young warriors; Amberflame and her sister Mistfur.

Not bothering to spare any mind to the heated glare that Featherkit left him. Beetlekit folded a pebble under paw feeling the tension crackle in the air.

"Er," she coughed awkwardly as Featherkit's gaze seem to burn invisible holes in Finchkit's pelt that prickled uneasily.

"What?" He grunted moving on to better things.

"Why don't we see if Blackpelt has something for us to do?" Beetlekit sounded hopeful.

Her brother spat in disagreement but the words found some sort of meaning to him. After all, the skinny black tom despised his mischievous behavior and had little patience with kits already. Putting the worst of odds together-in the same scenario was sure to spark some sort of excitement, for today at least.

The russet-colored tom nodded rising up to meet the challenge eagerly. His sister rose up to meet him, eyes twinkling with relief finally able to deter her hotheaded brother into something other than tackling Finchkit and his jeers.

What's the worst that could happen?

. . .

"Oh, no."

"You got that right."

"He's going to use our pelts for bedding."

"Not while I have something to say about it."

The duo managed to just about abolish all of the herb stock. Leaves mingled with once-carefully wrapped bundles that spilled small black seeds and some other sour-smelling plant-life everywhere.

Beetlekit sneezed, a feather sucked down her throat making her cough and spilling more precious herb into the disastrous pile of mess.

"Klutz," Featherkit muttered under his breath as he saw his creamy and white sister tumble around the disorganized small mounds of herbs.

She coughed again, narrowing her eyes at the dark tabby tom-kit.

She sputtered,"shut it!"

"Make me," he challenged, claws unsheathed for the second time today. His sister's eyes grew wide, a smile of triumph spilling over his muzzle but this was more than a look of wariness in her eyes. It was more of pure horror that shook her gaze, and a trickle of realization kicked him in the hindquarters, literally.

He collided with Beetlekit sprawling on the sand covered den; moss and crushed leaves danced in the air around them. His world swam dizzily around him. When his eyes stopped seeing double and adjusted was when he realized that a black shape loomed over the pair of littermates.

Huge golden eyes rivaling that of the dazzling sun bore down on the two. Beetlekit shrunk under his intense demeanor. Her brother stood up against the underfed tom.

"What in gods' name have you two been doing, here, of all places!" His voice shrieked as high pitched as if claws were scoring against jagged stone.

"W-we were waiting for you to return and ah," Beetlekit swallowed the shriveled up response as medicine cat narrowed his eyes at her.

He hissed. "You just so happen to be fumbling with the stock I collected for the past sunrise, eh? Day in and out I've toiled over collecting and cleaning out the musty old den. Now you two show up and my hard work goes up into smoke."

Featherkit's eyes flickered with guilt for a split second before stilling himself over when the tom raked his eyes over him more so than his sibling.

"Get out," he commanded, moving to one side to give a small space for both kits to escape. "You're not ever welcomed here, Featherkit. I know you. I remembered your birth and how fiercely you grew up to outpace both of your littermates. You're going to be one challenge that I do not wish to complete. Out, if you know what's good for you."

The ginger tabby glowered under him as he slipped past him, beckoning for his shaky sister to follow not parting stares until they exited out of the den entirely.

. . .

"_Sour puss,_" he said hotly.

"I'll turn you into _mousemeat _if you keep up that charade." Tangleburr mocked. "Besides, I wouldn't mind having Beetlekit as my apprentice. She knows her place and isn't as loud and boisterous as another kit-whom I wish would disappear-that I know of."

"Enough you two!" Brightfeather puffed. "Honestly, Featherkit, couldn't you find a better way to past time than to pester us?" She licked her lips half-way eating a pathetic excuse for prey. The scrawny hare lied between both warriors who just recently returned from a hunting patrol. It was difficult enough to hunt in mountainous terrain.

As usual the three moon-old kit sauntered over to forget his previous scolding by Blackpelt. Spotting to relaxed warriors eating and chatting in the sun-patched rocks was far too good of an opportunity to pass up. But then Featherkit took the warrior tom's words for granted and started a fight all over his size and small meaning to FrozenClan.

Fur fluffed up twice his size as he confronted the well seasoned brown tom. "Say that again, mangepelt!"

Beetlekit and Brightfeather yowled in astonishment. "Show some respect, Featherkit!" The she-cat warrior insisted.

Tangleburr snorted in laughter. "Don't waste your breath on this scrap of bones and fur. As if he'll ever make it beyond apprenticeship let alone the next moon, anyways." He lapped twice over his paw before drawing his ear in one smooth movement.

"Act smug all you want you'll eat those words. Maybe it'll make a far better meal than the one you're having." He hissed, claws sliding out from their cover.

Teeth snatched up the tom-kit just when he was readily about to pounce on Tangleburr's face just to see what he was really made of.

"I thinks it's about time to take you back to your mother. I wouldn't suggest getting on my denmate's bad side. He can be very brutal to any cat and has no mercy on whom he takes it out on." Brightfeather meow was muffled through fur and skin.

Featherkit dangled like half-dead prey in the small she-cat's jaws. His white paws swatted angrily before him imagining the brown tom's pelt under his raging fits.

_It's always troublesome Featherkit and wrecking havoc on his Classmates when I've done _nothing _to be in fault for._ He added silently. "Not much."

"What was that?" Brightfeather asked, placing him in front of the cleft side of the nursery.

"Nothing," he muttered, twisting around to lick down his spiked fur.

Hawkstep and Russtefoot was there to greet him along with two other faces that he didn't recognize. His eyes widened at the newcomers as Amberflame was graciously showing them the ropes of camp. Finchkit clung to Amberflame's side much to her happiness. He cast his brother a glance lit with amusement.

One of the rogue she-cats was trip-colored; red, gray and brown patched her pelt sewing in every detail. The other new face was a carefully speckled white cat with sparkling blue eyes. He was mesmerized by their appearances.

His throat was dry as not a single word seem to come out as they drew closer to him. Their breath tasted of far-off lands and a tiring journey that brought them closer together.

"Nice to meet you," the smaller of the two mewed. Her eyes wandered of his smaller size. "Why, you're no bigger than me!" She squeaked making Featherkit stare down at his white forepaws.

"The name's Meadow. I've been living in the lower parts of the mountain so you're group probably haven't detected me before, until now."

Meadow turned to her quieter friend he dipped her down to Beetlekit as they shared a few words with one another. When she glanced up at the tom-kit a sense of wisdom and understanding flashed in her green gaze.

Featherkit felt weak in the knees as a whole new world opened before him. Beetlekit brushed pelts with her brother, excitement dancing across her eyes as they both experienced something most kits these days would not.

"We should get to know one another a little better." Hawkstep intervened, glancing at all the young cats around her. "Come inside. Russetfoot and I were just sharing some prey together. There should be plenty for all."

Misty-eyed with relief Featherkit-for once in his bored life style-followed orders directed from his mother. Things were about to change for him and his siblings. He was sure of it.


	6. Chapter 6: Art of Conversation

**Chapter 6: Art of Conversation**

"I can't believe him. Stupid tom!" Claws marred the closest birch tree. Shredding the silver-tinted bark as it fell in tatters. The tips of of of claws flaked with the tree-skin as if shaken by the wrath of the creature. Saliva dripped from it's mouth. A crazed look mirroring that over a killer solidified in it's gaze.

"Oh, don't get your tail in a twist." A voice meowed. Eyes watched from afar and at a safe distance from the enraged pelt of golden tabby fur.

The tabby snarled, green eyes igniting in another fitful rage as claws tore through the undergrowth at what little vegetation it had.

There was a audible sigh from behind a clump of ferns. "Honeyleaf, throwing another temper tantrum is not going to get you any closer to him or her farther away from you."

The golden she-cat roar-turned-shriek as she crashed into a thistle bush. Clumps of fur snagged by the prickly thorns and muzzle blood with fresh scratches. The cat with her sighed again.

"I told you," he began when Honeyleaf cut him off with another hiss of anger.

"You told me nothing _I_ want to hear." She struggled only to force herself further into the clutches of the thorn bush. "Get me out of here!" She slashed at the tendrils wrapping around her paw but to no avail did she free herself. It took the might of another warrior to free the traped she-cat who was spitting insults all the while.

The tom shook his head has he nipped and tugged at the coiling vines. "You couldn't have got your head stuck in a fox hole? It's big enough to fit." He grumbled. He ducked, ears whistling at the sound of a limb flying overhead. He stared up at Honeyleaf eyes, reflecting the same fiery defiance that he knew too well.

"Say that again, Goldenpelt, and you'll find my claws so far up your tail end yo-"

He flicked his tail as a trickle of fear passed down his flank. "I get it. You'll cause unimaginable tortures to me. Save it for another day." He was careful not to brush past her as tension still radiated from her pelt. He shook himself to rid himself of it.

He jumped over a rotten log as it dissipated in the ground. "As I was saying before, Fireblaze is a very dedicated tom to BirchClan. You can't expect him to stop what he's doing and jump to your every beck and call. He's a warrior or have you forgotten that as well?"

Honeyleaf matched strides with the golden tom, glaring at him as he fueled her shot nerves. He made eye contact with the forest around them as it was recovering from its bout with leafbare. Tiny shoots of greenery were popping out of the icy ground. Berry patches thawed their succulent fruit, gleaming like precious stones in the sunlight. Even the bird song was a familiar tune to Goldenpelt's nicked ears. Newleaf was a season he was sure to look forward to. New life. New promise of prey. New hope. In his sense he saw it that way.

"Finished gawking over the little display of life on what we call home?" Honeyleaf chimed, kicking icicles-sheltering on a low hanging branch- right on top of him. He yowled as the broken shards of ice stung his face. He rubbed it with one paw snapping his gaze back to his sister who was challenging him to say something out of line. He lost the will to argue as he always had. He sister was a bully to him, no doubt. She was grateful for when others tried the same thing and earn a scratch to remember her by. Sometimes though she was so hard to understand.

Even now it was mind boggling why she was having trouble contemplating with her ginger mate. Sure, he had his duties to the Clan which occupied most of day, and his family which he visits quite often since both seniors retired to the elder's den, and then there was Cherrydawn's confession. Goldenpelt huffed. It was too complex for him to decipher. His own life was enough to deal with but being intertwined with his sister's dramatic flares of life was too much for him. He needed just one sunrise where he didn't have to worry about how Honeyleaf was faring with her daily life. He had his own problems like being a mentor for the first time!

* * *

The littermates ducked under a briar patch that sheltered the tiny entrance in BirchClan. Cats were already busy cleaning up the dens after the short snow storm they recently had. Leafbare wasn't officially over yet but it couldn't hurt to feel the nostalgic moments of what was to come in the near future. Honeyleaf certainly wasn't feeling any of it. She jolted her brother stalking over to the prey pile and selected a rabbit for herself. No one objected to her large claim because it was expected of a pregnant she-cat.

Goldenpelt knew he would't be offered a bite so he chose a mole for himself and sat a few mouse-lengths away from his ravenous eating sister. He took a tentative bite watching Honeyleaf wolf down the rabbit in a matter of heartbeats. Licking her chest and lips for the remains of meat chunks left behind.

He looked away to finish his own meager meal not wanting to lose his appetite before whisking away for border patrol later on.

A low growl sounded from his side. "There they are." Claws scraped the hard earth to retain any further action. Goldenpelt was nibbling on the tail as a fiery ginger pelt strode from the warrior's den followed closely by a nearly blackened she-cat. A few splotches of orange here and there but the darker of the two colors dominated her fur. Gentle golden eyes spared the tabby tom sweet admiration. It almost made Goldenpelt ponder yet again, why his sister was so envied by the not-to-bright Cherrydawn. Her looks was no where near the icy golden warrior. Her fighting skills below average. The only real talents she had was a small memory of herbs and potential growth in hunting techniques. Still, her heart was captured by the already taken Fireblaze. Gullible, he was a hard cat to say "no" to anybody.

"_Talk_ to her," he insisted. "Maybe you two can conclude some of this unnecessary qualms. It's not good for your health Honeyeaf and I refuse for you to jeopardies mine."

The she-cat warrior just crouched, glowering as Fireblaze nuzzled his other mate's cheek as she purred resounded from her belly. They parted ways as Fireblaze went to lead a sunhigh patrol. His red striped tail disappearing into the thicket. Cherrydawn was left by herself be even so, she was quick to strike conversation with Goldenpelt.

_Of all cats. _He grinned from ear to ear, waving his tail in swift greeting. "Afternoon, Cherrydawn. You're looking well as ever." He heard a scoff a few pawsteps from him. He rightfully ignored it.

The small torbie gave a timid dip of her head. Her eyes glancing over to Honeyeaf he was cleaning her fur paying no mind to her. "Good day, Honeyleaf." The tabby she-cat mumbled a quick 'hello' and turned her head away completely. Cherrydawn whiskers drooped. Goldenpelt was going to give her a piece of his mind when a sudden shrill caught both cats attention.

It came from Cherrydawn her eyes aglow with determination and long fur bristling. She stared at Honeyleaf with such ferocity that he had Goldenpelt's spine prickling. She wasn't having any of this today.

The petite tortoiseshell cleared her throat. "Excuse me for that outburst but I would like to speak with you." She gave a small glance to the tom's way, "Alone."

* * *

Honeyleaf found herself walking into the ice-cloaked forest. She was expecting some sort of resentment, conflict between two she-cats and mates of the all-admiring Fireblaze. Her claws itched to uncover and rake the ground mercilessly.

"This seems like a good spot to start." Cherrydawn spoke up halting Honeyleaf's diabolical plans. The tabby flicked her tail and sat a tail-length away from her clanmate.

Cherrydawn turned around, facing the glaring she-cat. A permanent scowl creasing her features.

The she-cat took a breath. "So, let's start."

"Start what?" Honeyleaf growled softly. She was already losing interest. Her temper rising with each outspoken word.

Cherrydawn tipped her rounded head. "Why, a conversation of course. It'll be the first one _ever. _I mean, since the time leading up to now. Then again, you did-in a way-ignore me during our apprenticeship. Didn't really bother to play with me at all in the nursery either..."

Honeyleaf's ear folded back against her neck. "Say no more. What is you want to discuss?" She already knew the obvious. It was about Fireblaze. The discussion these days has _always_ been about the fiery warrior. Blazing green eyes and a pelt to match. He was BirchClan's hero. Her hero. Cherryawn's hero. Her memory sour at that conclusion.

"For starters, I want to congratulate you as you're expecting," her head tipped down further seeing the smallest hints of a rounding belly. "And a quarter of a moon along, eh?"

Honeyleaf shifted her paws closer to her belly, protecting what little was in there. "Er, thanks." Her ears burned as the small tortoiseshell continued to stare at her as if expecting more. She didn't receive any.

"Have you visited Redlily and Flaresky lately?" Cherrydawn meowed.

The tabby perked up at the names. "No, are they alright?"

"'Fraid not. Flaresky is frantic about Redlily's sickness. He can't seem to stop pestering Sapfoot. The poor dear, working her tail off trying to keep the elders from worrying about each other." Cherrydawn sighed sadly.

Honeyleaf's heart clenched at the prospect. She'd forgotten all about Fireblaze's parents up to this point. Too busy with her duties and fretting about Fireblaze and Cherrydawn to have noticed Redlily's decline in health. Leafbare must have taken its toll on her immensely.

"Earth to Honeyleaf." Her clanmate waved a paw though she was far from close enough to grab her attention. The tabby swayed a bit but blinked several times before glancing at Cherrydawn. A tad of concern in her golden-green eyes.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You look far from fine. Should I fetch Sapfoot?"

The new queen snorted. "You just said she was exhausted from working overtime."

"True," Cherrydawn admitted. "However, that shoulndn't stop her or anyone else from helping a classmate in need. Especially in your current state."

The golden she-cat groaned inwardly. _She's more of a pain in the neck than I am. _Secretly!

"Look, I know you're concerned about me and my well-being but I didn't live long enough to be a senior warrior for nothing." Honeyleaf saw the hesitation-not just in her look but her body language.

"You're looking at this the wrong way, Honeyleaf. I'm not just worried about you or Fireblaze's parents but our relationship in general. We need to be bonded as close as we can with FrozenClan running rampant all during the season. Also, I've always wanted to be friends with you and that's why...why I decided to take a liking toward Fireblaze. The best and only way to get your attention was to sweep your most desired distraction under your nose. It may sound conniving and awful but I'm not. I'm really a nice cat if you get the chance to know me.

"You may see me as a waste of your time but I can be apart of your life. Whether you like it or not Fireblaze sees it that way. That we _can _get along. To opposites side of a moss rock. Granted he isn't the most intelligent tom and I'm not one to talk. Give me a chance. Give us both; you and me a chance." She strain, eyes wide with emotion.

Honeyleaf's mouth opened and closed mere seconds after Cherrydawn's confession. It made sense to stick close even in these times, hard or not. She could not find one fault in her said words. She bowed her head, ruefully conceding what she's been avoiding all this time.

She gazed at the torbie. A sad smile moving the corners of her cheek bones and spreading a glow of relief over both she-cats.

* * *

Three tiny shapes stuck to the curb of a pale-colored belly. A warm, pink tongue brushed each snuggling body. The love washed over Honeyleaf as she stared at her most beautiful accomplishments in the Clan.

A murmur brushed the queen's ear. "They're absolutely perfect."

She chided in tune with her now closely friend, Cherrydawn.

"What are you going to name them?" Her friend pressed.

Honeyleaf looked over each bundle of joy. One a pale ginger, another with faint tabby stripes and the last a brilliant golden pelt with white paws to match. Sapfoot had announced after her kitting that she had two toms and a she-cat. More life born into the loosely woven Clan. Something Fireblaze was sure to look forward to when he returned.

"I was hoping to wait until Fireblaze came back from patrol, but I guess I can start without him." She looked at Cherrydawn, green eyes shining bright. "I have you to help."

Cherrydawn purred, crouching low enough so that her whiskers tickled the back end of the middle kit. "I think that one should be named Flamekit. He resembles so much of his father."

Honeyleaf nodded, brushing her tail tip over her little darling. "That's a perfect name."

Her eyes fell to the paler of the two. "I think Gingerkit will fit for her." The only female gave a doleful mew, nuzzling closer to her mother's soft belly fur.

"She seems to like it as well." Her clanmate mewed. There was only one left to name and the little rascal was shoving Flamekit out of the way to get a better seat at the dinner table. The tabby was left to coward under the demands of the larger kit.

"Settle down," Honeyleaf said sternly, moving the golden tom-kit from harassing his younger brother. "Hm, Lionkit. That will be his name."

Cherrydawn gave a slow, steady nod. "It fits. He'll be strong as a real lion someday."

The queen wrapped her tail around her kits just listening to the mewl and suckling for much needed milk. "Hopefully they'll have some denotes to enjoy as well."

The tortoiseshell cheeks burned and she shyly licked down her chest fur. "It's a bit early for that."

"But it's true!"

The able she-cat warrior smiled. "Perhaps, someday."

A dark shape covered what little light came into the nursery. Out of breath and wide-eyed with worry. "Are they here? Is she alright? Did I miss anything?" He puffed.

Both she-cats glanced at each other before sharing a series of giggling, waking up Gingerkit in the process.

"Not much, Cherrydawn tinkled. "We were just sharing a friendly conversation."


	7. Chapter 7: Take Your Best Shot

**Chapter 7: Take Your Best Shot**

"Again, and this time do it a little harder." A gruff yet stern voice demanded.

Blood oozed freely from a fresh cut above the young tom's left eye. Claws on the brink of ripping from his paws but he kept going. He had to. In order to become the best leader for his father, for his sister. He leaped into the air, unsheathing his claws and crashing into to stoic frame of a battle-scarred tom.

The older cat easily flicked the kit away with a twitch of his shoulder. Silver rolled off but sprang up only to be knocked down again and earn another scratch on his cheek. He hissed as pain like fire shot through his muzzle.

"Pathetic." The tom growled in his ear. Breath stinking of carrion. "Silver, if you're to earn any respect from me-leader of the Boulder Troop-then you will push past your limits and at least _ try _to kill me."

The tom let him up only for him to catch his breath. Silver's muscles twitch from the strain of training from the day he left his mother's side. He didn't mind much at least when his father wasn't around. He glanced at the impatient tom as his eyes burned to continue. His father relented only when needed most. This was the only exception. To catch your breath, not lick your wounds and take a break.

"Again."

His father crouched ready to launch into the air once more with his bruised son. Silver shook himself, readying his aching paws as he too met the swipe of his father with his own brutal strike.

Silver's yowl of fury was knocked right out of his mouth. He stumbled to the ground and Ore mercilessly tore into his shoulder. Teeth biting hard on straining muscle as the young kit shrieked for some sort of relief. His father's jaw did not slacken.

He knew he would receive no mercy. His father was a relentless city boss and any kind of weakness was not passed under his careful watch. No, Ore pressed his bite harder on Silver until he could taste the copper taste of blood on his gums. Silver retaliated by catching the tom's ear, tearing his claws into the nicked, tender flesh.

Ore released his iron-jaw grip. Blood staining both tabby pelts. Silver inspected his shoulder. It twitched under his gaze. It will heal completely in a week or so he hoped it would.

"Better, you still have a lot of room to improve in your fight." Ore commented. His tongue rasped along his paw twice before swiping his pulsating ear.

Silver took deep breaths. He was still tense not knowing when his father would come and strike him down again. The older Silver grew the more unpredictable Ore became. This was all apart of the program in being a true leader of the East City. From birth he knew that. Even that resentful look Ore always gave when he looked at him or his sister.

_Such disappointment he_ sees. The young tom thought._ My potential is lacking. Joint leaders is the last thing he wanted for heirs. Now, he has double the duty of raising on his mind. More time wasted on his part._

"I'll give you a fight." Silver snapped back. Ore didn't anticipate the silver tabby to get right back on his feet and so soon from a serious injury.

Nonetheless, it didn't impress the serious tom within the slightest.

* * *

Golden fur pressed against Silver's side as he bent down to take a bite of a half-eaten rat. Fatigue welled up in his eyes but he chewed anyway hoping that that would keep him awake.

"How did it go?" The she-cat beside him questioned.

Silver mashed his teeth together barely listening. "Swell," He swallowed before continuing. "Ore still hates me with a passion but that's nothing new. Trains me until I break or if I break him. Which ever comes first."

"I'm sorry you have to put up with him like that, Silver." She sighed, blue eyes twinkling with guilt. "If I had half of your size or strength I wouldn't have my little brother going through such rigorous training."

Silver looked at her, smiling sadly. "Don't say that, Gold. I'm doing this for the both of us. What I lack you make up for. That's why Ore is making us two leaders one. You have the brains." He dabbed her nose with his less aching paw.

"And I have the brawn. We stick together through it all." He purred as she giggled.

"Honestly, Silver, you seem to perk me up at the worst of times." She nudged the rest of the rat carcass to him.

"Eat," she insisted, "you need all the strength you can muster to face Father."

The silvery tom wanted to scowl when Gold mentioned Ore by a name anything but a sweet and loving 'father'. He bit into the bony rodent one last time thrusting the rest into his sister's paws.

"I've had my fill. What I need now is sleep." He extended his tail for her to reach. Her short legs working twice as hard to keep up with her thin but well muscled kit-brother.

"Things will get better just you wait and see." She encouraged her brother as both sibling disappeared into the dark.

* * *

Blood painted the cobblestone pavement red. A hoarse chuckling rang out through the break of dawn as cats flooded into the smaller corner where Silver, Gold and their new recruit were hiding.

"Kill the little one first." The leader spat as one of his lackeys raced forward to tackle down and kill Gold. Silver was too slow to react in time despite the blood pounding in his ears.

"No!" Silver screeched when his saw the clash of pelts; golden and an ugly brown fur closing in. Another shadow flew by him just as the rogue's claws, posed to strike fell down on his sister. Her eyes wide with fear something he's never known her to experience.

It all happened so fast. The sound of flesh being ripped apart. The blood-gurttling scream. The thud of a dead weight body hitting the ground and a river of blood flowing freely beneath all three.

His eyes blinked many times. Silver pelted over just to see streaks of blood over Gold. He checked her injuries but she shook her head.

"It's not any of mine." She gasped. Lightheaded with relief he took steady breath but the danger was still with them.

Silver looked over to see Rat, twitching and barely alive and the rogue who attacked stepping away with just the tips of his whisker pulled back. He rejoined with his leader who instantly killed him for his insolence.

"Fool," the black tom spat. "Should have finished her off while you had the chance."

The large tabby growled taking several steps forward with Gold by his side.

The tom smirked. "Oh, two little kits ready to take on the big and mighty Bane? Ha! Don't make me laugh." He flicked his tail as his cats advanced on the two city rogues.

"Ore's reign has ended or so I've been told. Time to wipe the streets clean of such leftover filth." Bane groused. His muscles rippling under his dark pelt taking a place among his band of rogues.

"You heard right," Gold spoke up defiantly against the city boss. "Silver and I successfully outwitted and overpowered him. Careful, you might end up just like my dear, late Father." Her soft his turned into a ferocious snarl.

Bane chuckled. "Oh, really?" He mused. "Take your best shot. That is, if you have the guts to fight against a whole band of us."

Silver took another step, claws itching to wipe that smirk off Bane's scar-riddled face. "The pleasure of spilling your bowels on this stony ground will be mine."

Gold hummed, syncing each step with her brother's. She gazed down at Rat as his final moments were passing.

_Your sacrifice will not be in vain._

_"_"The only ones walking out here alive will be the two of us!" Gold declared. Bane's cats laughed at her. The cunning genius since her father before her!

Bane growled. "Enough talk, let our claws do the rest for us, eh?" He charged with his fourteen other cats.

Ore would have laughed the misassembled troop. Silver would laugh too if wasn't busy slitting throats of such an unorganized group. Moments before they had them at their necks. Gold had her ways of working around such messy tactics and went on with crush their windpipes or cracking their spine until hey dropped dead.

Bane was the last to fall by the paws of him.

"Any last words?"

Bane struggled despite himself. "You can rot in hell!" The black tom spat in his face.

Silver regarded him as the spit dribbled down his chin before lurching forward and ripping the tom's throat out. Blood gushed from the open wound and Bane gasped to breath before growing still.

The tom smirked devilishly at his accomplishment. They were going to be the ultimate leaders. Silver and Gold; two sides of the same coin. The intelligent and the strong. Brother and sister until death comes at their doorsteps. They would be the unstoppable force or so they believed.

"Come brother," Gold brushed against his side the thrill of the battle flashed in her eyes. "We have a lot of work to do."

**A/N: Dedicated to a very ecstatic fan of mine who's taken quite a liking to Silver/Valention. There's more stories about these daring littermates that's yet to be discovered! The story is a tad disoriented, however, I'll have a piece together from start to finish once I get through the sling of one-shots.**


End file.
